With Love From the Russian Tundra
by Made By a Nerd With Love
Summary: A fixed version of my other fanfic under the same name. Sorry for the inconvenience! This took me the whole summer (2-3 months) to create, so I hope you like this romance between Fem!China and APH Russia during the Korean War and Cold War.


The whole conference room was quiet as the UN waited for the last member to arrive. England huffed and lay back in his chair. "When will that git China arrive?" he grumbled. Germany grunted. "At least earlier than that dummkopf Amerika..." he said. "Hehhhh...at least I'll get to whoop all of your butts today..." Russia, aloof, his head in the clouds, murmured. After a moment of awkward, uninterrupted silence, the United States of America burst in, armed with his usual super-sized burger and reeking of grease. "Helllooooo, everyone! The hero is here!" he bellowed. Germany, England, and Russia, who had quite the bone to pick with the fellow, held back grimaces and cringes. He plopped his butt down on the plush seat corresponding to the title on the conference desk, and promptly returned to noshing on his Big Mac. Still, over the sound of his loud munching, there was silence. Germany groaned. "If China doesn't get here soon ve'll haff to track-" he stopped as the mahogany doors of the conference room were banged open. A figure stood in the doorway.

Silence enveloped the room as the rest of the United Nations stared at the girl in the doorway, the wind from outside whipping her Manchu blazer. Her jet-black hair was slightly rumpled, matching the disgruntled look on her face. "C-china? Is that you?" stuttered France, spitting out his fine wine. The girl slammed the door behind her with a loud WHAM. "Listen up, morons," she snapped. "My name is the People's Republic of China, and from now on, I am here to make sure you know that I CONTROL WHERE THE MONEY GOES. So," she said, sitting down at China's allotted seat. "Let's get on with this meeting."

A gasp went around the cavernous room as China sat there, waiting patiently. Estonia, who had been acting as a maid (uh, ask Russia) wailed in anguish. "NO! MY DREAM IS COMING TRUE!" he cried. "I though this job was awful enough…" he sniffled. "H-HEY! How did China suddenly become a girl! Explain all this nonsense!" England yelled over the din of the chatter. China stood. "It's easy," she said. "I'm just technically not China." England, about to rage on China's face, held his anger back as he mulled over the conundrum that was standing on the other side of the room. "If she is People's Republic of China," Germany mused, "then who was the China before her?" Russia, with Byelorussia clutching his waist, stood, grinning. "That's because the old China was not Communist, da?" he said. China nodded. "That's right. People's Republic of China is Communist because we defeated the democratic Republic of China, which overthrew the imperialist Middle Kingdom. That's why I'm not the same person. I'm completely different, now that I'm a formal country." she replied. "Then VHAT happened to the Middle Kingdom?" Germany implored, the conversation now a full-on investigation. "Well, he just doesn't exist anymore. I suppose he's dead…" China said matter-of-factly. "…all reigns must come to an end." Germany sat down, finally satisfied, followed by China. "So then, why don't we get this meeting started?"

Incense burned in a small shrine, its smoky, heady scent wafting through the thick bamboo branches. China sighed, breathing in its sweet scent and enjoying her bitter green tea. Suddenly, she heard a knock at her door. She dashed to open it and was introduced to a shiny lead pipe. She smiled. "Oh, Russia-san! Come in- I've just finished brewing some tea!" Russia grinned in return. He slipped off his leather boots and strolled out to the courtyard where the incense continued sizzling. He and China sat down at the fine rosewood table on the porch, looking over a lush, grassy courtyard, filled with bamboo and peonies. A clear blue creek playfully bubbled over rocks, straddling the border of the yard, which led to China's quarters. Russia took a sip of the green tea. Although he liked black tea from a samovar better, he savored its earthy, leafy tones. "You are burning incense, da?" he said cheerily. China nodded. "Yes. Honoring my predecessor…" she murmured. Russia looked over to the shrine with his old friend's portrait in it. "Ah, I see. Which begs the question… what happened that killed Yao?" he mused. "He could not sustain himself as a country, and without a leader, a country must fall." China replied, draining her cup. "More tea?" she asked. "Da, thanks." Russia replied. After a moment, a small child tottered out from the flowers. China flashed a small smile, standing up to pick the small girl with large brown eyes and flowing black hair up into her arms. "Oh, Russia, I forgot to introduce you to Taiwan." She said. Russia grinned. "She's so cute! I think Ukraine would love her!" Russia fawned. "Yeah. Well, this is what happened to the Republic of China… Taiwan was born when the democratic leader escaped to an island after the war." Her face fell. "Ah, then she will move out soon?" Russia inquired. "Correct, as she matures as a country." China answered, putting the little girl down to play in the creek. "Oh, and don't get your clothes wet!" she called out to the child. She turned back to Russia. "Is that what you wanted to know? What happened after you helped me in the fight?" Russia reminisced back to the young girl he met on the bloody battlefield whom he lent his rifle to. And here she was, now a full-fledged communist country, sitting across from him at a table drinking green tea. He sighed, thinking about all the years he'd been alive, from when he was still a little boy who called himself Kievan Rus to the United Soviet Socialist Republic. His life was a long gruesome saga, and was dizzying to look back upon, and he hoped that China would not suffer from the fate he experienced: long, bloody wars, civilian uprising, and endless torture. "Would you like to stay for dinner? I was planning to make dim sum." China proposed. Russia perked up. Among all the deep-fried and meaty foods he ate, he was always up for dim sum. He chuckled. "Well, maybe make a little less this time. It was kind of your fault that I gained five pounds after I ate at your house, da? Or maybe I'll attack the Chinese Eastern Railway again…" He replied. "Okay, okay. I'll go easy on you this time." She giggled. She strolled over to the kitchen, humming quietly. "I could always get an extra hand here in the kitchen, Russia! And remember to call the Baltics before they worry sick." She called out. Russia trotted along to China's phone to call Lithuania, and afterwards happily began helping China knead the thick dumpling dough as the sun went down.

Russia gazed up at the stars as he left China's warm home, dreaming of manifesting more destiny like that American bastard did, like annexing more of Europe for the Soviet Union- which meant more friends for Latvia and the other lonely countries! Already with Poland struggling under his control, he knew he could dominate the world. It was late when Estonia answered Russia's door, clearly up late trying to recover from the war and such and wasn't very happy to see him. Russia was a step over his own threshold before Estonia exploded. "I'm done. I can't take it anymore, Mr. Russia! Why do you have to take me as your territory just to make me another trinket of yours?" he grumbled. "I thought Germany could help me, but all he did was pull me into another hellhole, and you're not making it any better by invading my territory!" he sighed. Russia, taken aback, had nothing to say. "I'm tired of this, Mr. Russia. I can't do this." He said, his voice heavy. "But…" Russia began, the expression on his face growing darker. "If you don't want to become one with the Soviet Union… I will have to make you." Russia hissed, his deep violet eyes glinting with pure evil as he brandished his favorite gleaming lead pipe. Estonia slumped against the wall of the entrance room, chilly winds still blowing through the front door, left ajar. His body was trembling from head to toe as he barely mumbled the words, "O-oh no, Mr.R-r-russia, I-I would n-never doubt y-you…" as Russia's dark aura disappeared. He got up, hands trembling, and shut the door, offering to take Russia's coat. Russia smiled sweetly and walked past, hoping to get a shower before Byelorussia found him.

That same night, China lay in her bed, moonlight reflecting off her shiny black hair and illuminating her skin as she clutched little Taiwan in her pale arms. She hoped that Taiwan would remain as a part of her country, as she remembered the hate they carried when she claimed sovereignty over the island. If Taiwan were to claim independence, she hoped, it would be peacefully. Taiwan's chest rose and fell, breathing softly. China smiled. She saw a future for herself, and she knew she would thrive in the new era of communism.

Before all of the global powers knew it, the UN conference of the summer had come around, and China was on a roll, chugging ahead of all the other countries hell-bent on becoming an industrial giant. Her pointer rapped at the blackboard, depicting a well-drawn and detailed chart of China's plans for the future. "Now that I have control of Manchuria…" she said, shooting a dirty look at Japan. Japan winced sheepishly. "I can take advantage of the abundant coal resources there. With that, I can power an industrial revolution of my own workings." She proposed with a triumphant glint of her glasses. Many of the other countries, still reeling from the two world wars, were completely broke and barely holding on to their national stature. Germany was not his ordinary self, stressed out over piles of papers that the Allies had pushed over onto his desk. He had lost the war once again; a humiliating defeat. He was once again hard at work trying to rebuild what he had lost and was in deficit of the victorious countries. The rest of the Allies were also relatively broke, excluding Russia, China, and America, which were on the brink of becoming global superpowers. Russia had seized billions of dollars' worth of art and precious relics looted from the Axis and other countries, many taken by the Red Army's soldiers themselves. China, with a new totalitarian government system, was thriving among new resources, at the beginning of becoming a manufacturing behemoth. America had been thriving over his countless victories, churning out more money despite going through two wars and other domestic troubles, like his oncoming fear of another superpower: Russia. England and France were both slumped in their seats, silently crying over their financial and physical ruins. Italy looked glum, and Japan was borderline insane, completely helpless after America nuked his cities. "HEY DUDES, SINCE YOU GUYS ARE COMPLETELY BROKE AND SO ARE A BUNCH OF THOSE GI DUDES I HAVE AT HOME HOW ABOUT WE PROVIDE SOME CASH FOR THOSE BROKE DUDES AND DUDETTES?" America practically bellowed. He was faring the best in the postwar times-his loss count paled in comparison with the other Axis and Allies. "Well, I have my own problems. One, I am tired of ALL YOUR western shit and from now on, you idiots are banned from my house. I am not accepting any more opium and destruction. You did this to me, so get out. Two, I am already busy on banning polygamy and reforming villages. So, I really don't need your idea this time, thank you." China retorted angrily, suddenly riled up about the Westerner's proposal. The rest of the UN members sighed and obliged, although they were penniless. At least America could help them. Suddenly, another figure frantically burst into the room. It was South Korea, breathing heavily. "Sir! Sorry to interrupt, but North Korean forces have crossed my border! WE NEED HELP!" All the Allies but Russia and China immediately jumped out of their seats. Russia smiled, thinking of all the territory he could take just because North Korea was under control-but he wanted some help if he would be going against a broke England and completely unstable and also broke France, followed by the all-powerful United States of America. He turned to China, who was staring nonchalantly of all the frantic countries preparing troops and such. "Will you help me, da?" Russia said with an unwavering and rather frightfully cheery tone. China paused. With her own country in tatters, she had her own big plans. "Not now. I'll think about it, maybe talk to my boss- but thank you no, I just can't right now." She replied, still deep in thought. She stood, rapping her metal pointer on her desk. "Meeting adjourned. You can all go on to prepare more forces-and I'll see you suckers later." She commanded, strolling stiffly out the door.

China arrived home and sat down on a chaise, rubbing her temples in frustration as Taiwan came running. "Ma-ma! You're home!" she exclaimed, her bubbly personality clearing away all of China's stress. Her dress was caked in mud, presumably from playing in the creek, attempting to catch some fish. "Ai-ya! You're covered in dirt! You need a bath, Taiwan." China cried. Taiwan froze. "NO! NO! I DON'T WANT TO!" she yelled, folding her arms and smudging the mud all over her clothing. China sighed. If Taiwan were to be so stubborn, maybe she would have to let her go. She hefted her up, the little girl kicking and struggling, and carried her over to the bathtub. She groaned at the little girl's weight- the little island nation was growing fast. After she cleaned up little Taiwan, she decided to relax a little and play with the little panda her grandfather and predecessor left orphaned. _Oh, what am I going to do? The Allies are all going to war, and I'm pretty much ruined for now. _China thought, petting the little panda. Her eyes brightened, set alight with determination. _No! Who cares about Russia and the others! I need to focus on me right now!_ She realized. China jumped up, driven by a new energy, throwing on her suit and saying goodbye to Taiwan as she hopped right out the door to meet her boss in Zhongnanhai, which was where he resided, hoping he would help her put her plans for industrialization into motion.

The Soviets grimly prepared for the forthcoming war, sending medical supplies and ammunition to Pyongyang. Russia glanced at the map of Korea, worry growing inside. Wrestling Byelorussia (yeah, she clings to him day and night unless Russia locks his doors and windows) off his waist, he went to send a telegram.

AM AIDING KOREAN INVASION STOP. COULD YOUR BOSS COME OVER SO WE COULD DISCUSS REINFORCEMENTS DA STOP. WITH THANKS RUSSIA STOP. OH AND MAKE SURE HE AGREES STOP.

Russia smiled as he sent the telegram, wondering if China would reply hastily as he daydreamed of victory, staring out the window into the sunflower fields that surrounded his home, blowing in the June breeze. _Could I really win? _Russia mused. _Of course, I can. With China and N. Korea, I can do anything!_ He thought, sighing. Now was not the time to doubt himself- instead, it was teatime. Conveniently, Lithuania had already set up the samovar in his office, and little Latvia was quietly brewing the dark tea beside it, shaking in fear of his presence. Russia smiled as he nibbled on some gingerbread Lithuania had baked earlier as he sipped his tea. Nothing could get any better, da?

It was already late October 1950 when Russia received a reply from China, but he was ecstatic as he read over the telegram.

BOSS MET UP WITH N KOREAS STOP. SO WE AGREED TO SEND SOLDIERS STOP. I HOPE WE WIN THIS FIGHT OR YOU OWE ME STOP.

Russia jumped up and down excitedly at the news, shaking of Byelorussia's grasp. He threw on his coat to visit his boss at the Kremlin, eager to break the news of fresh reinforcements, his face lit up with joy, yet glinting eagerly. _I hope American blood can be spilled this time, _he thought, thinking about the war and wondering about how the North Korean People's army was doing. He knew that there would be bloodshed, and he savored every last moment of it.

China watched proudly as thousands of her soldiers poured out from the hills of Unsan, South Korea, blowing bugles, lobbing grenades and firing PPSh-41 "burp" guns at American forces of the 8th cavalry regiment, startled by the ambush. The chivalrous men had attacked the north, northwest, and western groupings of scattered UN and Republic of Korea forces, collapsing the right flank of the ROK's 15th Regiment within hours and retreating other American and Korean forces into the dying light of November 1. She smiled. "All in a day's work," she said to herself. "Let's hope this goes…" China's thoughts were cut off as a sharp pain erupted from her left right shoulder. A bullet straight from a M1 Garand rifle had pierced her shoulder. Wincing, she half-hobbled, half-jogged to find a medic as she cradled her shoulder, blood staining her green uniform. _Damn it! _China thought, dodging stray bullets. _I hope countries don't die from bullets- what a shame. I do have to thank Russia for those Shpagins, though…_

Russia read the telegram once, twice, three times, disbelieving. Were the Chinese soldiers that good? "Liet! Liet! Listen to this! 'The Chinese have collapsed the Republic of Korea's 15th Regiment and scattered UN forces! Even better, they've captured the Unsan commander post. Not many survived the wave! Ufu~" he giggled, brimming with joy and triumph. "O-oh! Congratulations Mr. Russia! I hope we can gain the winning side!" Lithuania responded shakily. Russia jumped for joy, continuously sending ammunitions and Polikarpov biplanes with glee. "A-and, we dominate the s-skies, too" Latvia added. Just then, Estonia burst into Russia's office. "Mr. Russia! I have another telegram from Ms. China!" he announced, red-faced. Russia practically slapped it out of his hands, reading with gusto.

SHOT IN THE RIGHT SHOULDER BY SOME DAMN AMERICAN STOP. DOING VERY WELL BUT NOT PLANNING ANY MORE FIGHTING STOP. OH AND THANKS FOR THE SHPAGINS STOP. PAPA NEVER FAILS HUH STOP.

Russia's face fell, clearly dejectedski. The three Baltics began quaking in pure fear. If Russia was sad, you were dead for sure. "Aww… I thought China-chan was going to win it for me…" he lamented. The Baltics began slowly retreating to the door, clearly startled. _China-chan?_ They wondered. Clearly the North Koreans were on their own on the battlefield this time. Russia sighed, rubbing his temples. With merely remnants of the NKPA retreating to the mountains or into China, he saw himself on the losing side. Could this really work out?

China muttered incoherent curses to herself as she bandaged her wound in fresh gauze. The damn wound was on the brink of infection as she and her hid in the mountains. Her thoughts were heavy with the news of encroaching X Corps troops from South Korea, who had liberated most of Korea. _Ai-ya, this place is a real dump. _She lamented. She sidled over to the battle map, poring over the map of the Korean Peninsula, now covered in blue pins, a few red pins here and there in the northern regions where her troops were stationed in guerrilla mode. She knew that they couldn't stay immobile for long, and they had to attack, her gaze drifting from one blue pin to another. Then, she finally had something. Calling her commanders into her tent, she explained her new battle plan, and she was determined to help. "But, Miss, your injury…" one general inquired. "Ai-ya, no need to treat me like old woman! I can take care of myself!" she retorted, waving off their worries. The rest of the commanders dispersed out of the small tent to summon soldiers and resources as China watched from inside. The next day, they would finally rematch the Eighth Army.

Fresh rubble lay about the path winding away from the Ch'ong'chon river as the Eighth Army march north, led by their valiant, young yet reckless leader, the United States of America, trudging forward through the waning light. Though he and his forces suffered bloody defeats in the beginning of the fight, he was beginning to think that the evil Communists on the other side would be cowering in defeat after they reached the border of China, ready to fight. And, afterwards, there would be more cash to be paid in, and of course, more cheeseburgers. America was jolted from his thoughts as a soldier, frantically shouting, sprinted towards him, followed by the sound of gunfire. "Sir! They've attacked our ranks right and center!" the man exclaimed. "W-what!? We need to fight back, because we're the real heroes!" he replied, alarmed by the sudden attack. The soldier stopped. "B-but, there's so many of them! Can we really make it?" he stuttered back. America grinned. "Of course, we can, because we're AWESOME! Now let's go make those guys regret coming here!" he retorted, already charging towards the bugle-blowing, grenade-hurling masses of Chinese soldiers, led by a wounded China, screaming a feral battle cry.

Shells pounded the earth as gunfire rattled China's ears. She hacked her way through American forces with might and determination, followed by her seasoned veterans of the civil war that created her. Although she exited with some bloody gashes, many of her comrades lay fallen at her feet, mixed in with the corpses of American troops. Sprinting backwards, she called her troops to retreat from the battle, suspending the ordeal for the night. Retreating was never her thing, but she couldn't underestimate the might of the young reckless man who sent his soldiers against her. She looked up at the night sky, hoping it would end, and if she would survive the war. China hurriedly sent a telegram to Russia, hoping she would receive aid:

AIYA RUSSIA I NEED SOME HELP HERE STOP. AMERICAN FORCES MARCHING NORTH, N KOREA NOT DOING SO WELL ARU STOP. WE JUST ATTACKED AND HAD TO SUSPEND ATTACK BUT NOT SURRENDERING TODAY STOP.

She peeked outside, curious about the situation. It was not bad, though a smidge dismal. Smoke from exploded shells and grenades saturated the already thick air as several small fires burned atop some brush. Her men were faring alright, and she prayed that the rest of her good men had survived attacking the X Corps at Chosin Reservoir. Hardened with determination, China once again stepped outside into the wreckage. Some men were wandering, tending to their wounds, or huddling together. She shivered at the bitter cold. North Korea had told her it was going to be one of the coldest winters at his house- and he wasn't wrong. Still, some men were freezing, quaking and waving white flags. China finally spoke up after a moment of surveying her men. "Quit waving those flags, aru!" she commanded. The men stopped and stared by the sudden outburst from the petite woman. "Get your guns, we're going back, and this time we're not giving up without a fight!" she announced, a sparkle in her eyes. They charged back, stepping over bloody corpses and strewn rubble to an amassed army led by a man China despised: America, cocking a M1911 pistol, gleaming in the early lights of dawn. Shots rang out once again, as men fell like dominoes. China grinned, ran back to the telegraph, and sent a quick telegram to Russia and the others.

JUST KIDDING ARU STOP. JUST STARTED FIGHTING AGAIN AND WE ARE NOT BACKING DOWN STOP.

She dashed outside once again, sidestepping shells and grenades, hefting her own rifle, her wound set aside completely. She roared the battle cry of a dragon and charged to the sound of blowing bugles.

This time, it was China's turn to jump for joy as she read a telegram from her fellow general Song Shilun declaring victory, her demeanor untarnished by the heavy losses her volunteer army suffered, either from freezing to death or the bullets raining down on them. The 250,000 troops at the Chosin reservoir had surrounded the Americans, pushing them all the way to the harbor of Hungnam. The long and bloody battles were so far over, and that bastard America had called for rescue. China's troops had also pushed the UN armed forces all the way to the 38th parallel, where she had reclaimed North Korea. She shuddered at the thought of having America at her border, practically nuzzling her, his army straight-up blockading her home. Tonight, she would rest easy, although she was freezing cold, alongside her remaining troops, who had donned the thick coats of fallen American forces in order to save themselves. Her eyes felt droopy and heavy after over 36 hours with no sleep, and she drifted away into sweet slumber listening to the soft gust of wind whispering by her tent, blowing over the snowy tundra of North Korea.

"Shit shit shit!" China exclaimed the next morning, clutching a telegram from one of her generals, Peng Dehuai, reading that the US soldiers had escaped from Hungnam and destroyed the port, rendering it useless to the PVA, also evacuating a third of the documented Korean refugees and bringing supplies in tow. Anger clawing at her judgement, she planned her next move as she nibbled on a morsel of rice. Thousands of Korean refugees had slowed the retreat of Republic of Korea and other regiments belonging to the UN. With her side suffering huge losses, she had to get clever. General Walker of the Eighth Army died the day before in an automobile accident, and he was finally out of the game, their attempt to reunify Korea by force over. _But with Edwin Walker dead, there will be a new general, and a new obstacle _China mused. The only thing they could do right now was try and survive the bitter Korean winter.

It wasn't long until the Chinese struck again. Or at least, the day after Christmas, December 26. It was the day that General Matthew Ridgway had assumed command, and although he had big plans for the Eighth Army, the CCF struck in the west near Seoul, South Korea, successfully claiming the capital. Two of three of the regiments of the Republic of Korea had fled the battlefield already, leaving the 17th Regiment to fight for hours on the wrecked battlefield of Seoul. America, beaten and bloodied amongst the hemorrhage of the pile of bodies he stood atop, could not go any farther through the battle, panting heavily. "Retreat!" he cried, dashing away from the remaining Chinese soldiers, among them the smirking face of China, her complexion streaked with muck and blood. A small wave of men was soon mobilizing, heading for the Han River, gunfire and shells pelting their backs. The small but not meager group of Americans and Koreans soon disappeared, merely a spot in the distance. China peered at the fleeing speck, some units remaining, assigned to fight as the cogs in her mind turned. She turned to her exhausted men. "They're heading towards the Han River. I don't know the exact number of regiments, divisions, tanks, men, tanks, etc. that they have, but we can count on their position that they will be outflanked by our forces," she announced, still deep in thought. "If we act fast, we will capture Seoul today!" she cried, hefting her rifle up, fingers on the worn trigger.

Strolling through neat rows of Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG-15s, Russia contemplated the situation of the war, smiling to himself. The Chinese had claimed Seoul, which was a huge victory and gaining huge amounts of real estate. Men and women with the telltale helmets and goggles milled around, mechanics trailing them to their planes, which were deceptively marked as Chinese or Korean. Russia ran his gloved hand against the cold, smooth surface of one of the behemoth beauties, his mind wandering. Ukraine, dressed in her army-green fatigues and slightly too-tight aviator jacket, trotted up to her little brother. "младший брат, how are you feeling today?" she said cheerily. Russia's face lit up at the sight of his big sister. "Дела идут хорошо, большая систра." he replied. "Have the missing Yak-9s been restored?" he inquired to Ukraine, who managed the airfields they owned in China, especially this HQ at Mukden. She paused for a moment, pondering. "They're putting on the finishing touches. They should be ready in an hour or a half." She replied. "Great. Tell the Po-2 crew that they have another night-raid at 2400 hours. We need to gain as much ground as possible." Ukraine nodded and ran off to where a small gaggle of women were talking and lounging on the lawn, looking up at the clear robin's egg sky. 

Men marched about as planes constantly took off at the K-site airfield in Pusan. He chuckled to himself despite the stress of retreating south of the Han to Line C. God, Ridgway was a tough one. He high-fived a few mechanics and ran his gloved fingers across the side of one his buddy's F-4 Phantom, staring out onto countless rows of mass-produced F-105 Thunderchiefs and more, all supersonic, twinjet, or something else. Technology was at its peak after the war, and America had wasted no time building these darlings. Although his troops were pushed past the capital, the land of the free still had hope. _Of course, _he thought. _I'm gonna save the Koreans because I'M the HERO!_ He was jolted out of his silent yet ecstatic thoughts as a gargantuan explosion shook the hard, concrete ground of the airfield. Planes wobbled as some capsized or blowing up from the unprecedented attack, which filled the air with toxic air. The acrid air filling America's nostrils, his sky-blue eyes widening. _Napalm,_ he realized, staring up at the now smoky-colored sky, where the sound of a Tupolev Tu-2's engine purred, its underbelly patterned with a large red star with telltale Chinese characters on it. "Fuck!" America muttered. Men sprinted for cover across the airfield, some firing anti-air guns and some still adjusting the straps on their aviation helmets. He ran to one of the men who was hurriedly trying to snap together the straps on his helmet. "I want those Phantoms up there RIGHT NOW!" he ordered, anger and determination in his voice. The man nodded as he looked up to the clouded sky. "Aw, hell there's more of them." He complained, sprinting off to gather the rest of his crew as America peered up at the enemy aircraft streaking across the sky, reading telltale markings and staring at them, shocked. Following the Tu-2 was a whole crew of MiG-15s, dead-set on strafing the small airfield. _Ra-ta-ta-ta-tat. _The familiar sound of machine guns met America's ears. He leaped into a neighboring Thunderchief, a plan formulating in his mind. Snapping on his helmet, he gunned the engine, flipping switches and pushing buttons. Looking out of the cockpit, hand on the joystick, he had a clear takeoff from the runway although being pelted with bullets on the ground. America gritted his teeth as the fighter jet slowly ascended towards the heavens.

All was quiet as China's regiments marched towards Seoul. Many of her men were freezing as the relentless winter ripped through her ranks. Some carried rifles and such, while others lugged what was left of the food and bedding. They were surrounded by trucks carrying the wounded and occasionally, anti-aircraft guns. Breaking the silence after a while of trudging through the snow, the roar of a fighter jet came from overhead, startling many. "It's a Sabre! They've found us!" one soldier exclaimed in Mandarin. "Ai-ya! Prepare the ZPU-4!" China yelled. Several men ran for the truck which held the hefty anti-aircraft gun, setting it up as the rest of the soldiers cleared its path, covering their ears. The familiar ack-ack-ack met China's ears again as she heard several bangs midair- the plane had been shot down. Men ran out of the way as China and the rest of her troops dove for cover, bracing for the impact. The crash shook the ground, sending singed metal everywhere. China, hiding behind a canvas-covered truck, saw a young adolescent running towards her, probably about twelve or thirteen, dashing towards her, almost tripping in his too-big combat boots. "Ma'am! We shot down the wrong plane!" China's eyes widened. _What?_ She sprinted for the wreckage. A figure stumbled out of the ruined cockpit. A man with brown hair and blue eyes and a green uniform which was torn and bloodied, a red star clearly patterned on his forearm. A Russian pilot! "Fuck!" she exclaimed. _That will cost Mr. Russia millions of rubles! No, billions! _China thought, panicking. Rushing to the man, she fiercely grabbed his collar. "Who are you?" she screamed. "R-russian," the man stuttered. "THEN WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" she bellowed. "Scouting, what else..." the man muttered. China loosened her grip as the man toppled onto the ground. "Get a medic. And make sure he comes with us…" China commanded. A medic led him away from the wreckage, muttering something to the pilot. As China walked away, she heard them talking. "I think she likes you…"

About a month after the destruction of the airfield, America waded through the freezing depths of the Han River, followed by multitudes of troops and even more desperate refugees. He heard the constant wail of babies and children as the load on his back grew even heavier. The cold seeped through his uniform, chilling every inch of his body, freezing his blood. It was a hard journey, but there still was hope. With the Han frozen over, the bridges and railroads destroyed, the Chinese would not be able to cross the river. The only thing that was hard to swallow was that the UN forces had lost Seoul, the capital of South Korea, and the ROK was basically annihilated. They retreated to Line D forty miles south of Seoul in the waning light of January 4, 1951, tired and wounded, hoping that the struggle would end soon.

A heartbreaking two years passed in the Korean Peninsula, full of bloodshed and fighting, as both sides trying their best to survive the harsh winters, rough terrain, and constant lack of food and supplies. Looking out over the 38th parallel, China wondered if this would really work. The war was at a stalemate, and neither side could fight anymore, so America and South Korea wanted to call an armistice. With North Korea and Russia by her side, she saw figures limping in the early morning light towards the parallel. It was America, France, England, Turkey, Canada, Australia, Thailand, Greece, Belgium, and her brother the Netherlands. The rest of the UN belligerents were unable to attend the stalemate armistice. Switzerland and his tanks surrounded the warring countries, overseeing the armistice. "July 27nd, 1951, 1000 hours." Switzerland began curtly. "Today we mark the signing of the Korean War armistice, enabling the De-Militarized Zone at the 38th parallel, hereby separating North Korea from South Korea. Do you all agree to this armistice?" The UN forces nodded and agreed, all eyes on the Communist forces. China sighed, nodding, and set her gun on the table, to Russia's surprise. Next was North Korea. He dropped his sword with difficulty, as if he was balking at the idea of stalemate. By China's side, Russia trembled with rage and resent for the UN forces as he clenched his lead pipe. Finally, after a moment of silence, he slammed it on the table. "Good. Now sign the armistice agreement." He concluded. Once all of the countries had signed the paper before them, he officially called the armistice. "Now then, you have three days to withdraw two kilometers from the cease-fire line. Good day." Switzerland announced, promptly leaving the battlefield.

China arrived at Russia's house a few weeks after the armistice, still nursing her wounds. She knocked on the door, savoring the cool summer breeze. Lithuania appeared at the door, beaten and bloodied, startling China. "Ai-ya! Lithuania-aru, what happened?" she exclaimed, stepping into Russia's house. "O-oh, this is just from the past few times that Mr. Russia beat me with his spare pipe." Lithuania replied, nursing several bruises. "Oh. What is Russia doing right now?" China inquired. "S-s-speaking of that, he hasn't left his room for the whole day today…" Lithuania mused. "Come. Let me show you inside…" he proposed. China crept upstairs towards Russia's room, peering through the lock, wriggling the doorknob. Locked. _Is Russia okay? He's probably with Belarus right now… _China mused. Suddenly an idea popped into her head. Swiftly, China pulled out one of the hairpins in her hair, sticking it in the lock. A few minutes of probing led to success as the lock clicked and the door creaked open. A knife flew past China's ear and into the door, impaling it with a _twang. _"_Get…out…_" Belarus hissed, clutching the duvet, kneeling beside Russia. Yanking out the throwing knife and pocketing it, China knelt beside Russia's bed, checking his forehead. Russia's face had grown pale and gaunt, his body growing thin and frail. "_Typhus,_" China muttered. Russia's eyelids fluttered as he slowly made out the shape of China's face as she caressed his head, wiping away sweat. Belarus swatted away China's hand. "_Ow!_" she yelped. "_China…?" _Russia croaked. "_Water…_" Belarus grabbed a glass of water from the nightstand, feeding it into Russia's mouth. "This must be a result of the famines and disease in the USSR, Belarus. Are you sure you didn't bring him to the gulags?" China inquired. Belarus shrugged. "Nyet. I might have, but we didn't stay long…maybe two or three weeks…" she replied nonchalantly. China sighed. "Remember not to do that again, aru. That can hurt him, even though he's technically immortal." Russia coughed and hacked, his chest shuddering. China held a tissue to Russia's mouth as he erupted into another fit of coughing. Belarus propped up the pillows as China sat him up. "Belarus, stay right here, I'll make some rice porridge." China commanded as she dashed out the door. Sprinting out into the corridor, she almost collided with Ukraine, who was done for the day tending her fields and farms. "Oh, China-san, what's the matter?" Ukraine asked. "Russia's got typhus and he's not doing well. And, where do you guys put the rice?" China replied, leaping down the stairs. "Hey! Wait for me!" Ukraine exclaimed, making a beeline for the kitchen cupboard as China shuffled pots around and boiling water. "I have to help my младший брат!" Belarus was still clutching Russia's hand, checking for his pulse when China and Ukraine arrived with a steaming bowl of porridge. Crouching at his bedside, Ukraine spoon-fed the soupy rice into his mouth. "Make sure he gets enough sleep, give him lots of water to drink, and make sure he doesn't eat anything heavier than porridge, borscht, or solyanka. You know what I mean. Take care." China commanded, promptly leaving.

It wasn't until Russia got better till the UN held their next meeting. The atmosphere was dismal, every country as broke and desolate as any other. The World Wars had struck hard, and the Korean War was the final blow. Well, excluding America and China, the other three members of the UN Security Council and many other countries were all in financial ruin as their war-torn lands could not produce a single thing, be it food, machinery, and raw materials. "Uh, dudes, what are we gonna do?" America asked, uneasy. "Industrialization," China muttered as she sipped her tea. "Is my prime battle plan. I have discussed it with you, I have discussed it with my boss, and we are making sure I can industrialize, which can help the global economy tremendously." She added curtly. "This is our great leap forward." America's face reddened. "Well, I'm not letting you do that, _commie_." He spat. "Alfred! You an ass!" China retorted. "That's not going to stop me." China said, smirking. This only made Alfred angrier. "Too bad! You communist scum, do you know what demon spawn this will create? How many lives this will cost? You commies don't know anything!" he yelled, glaring at Russia and China as he stalked out of the room. "Aiya, young people these days…" China lamented. "It's a shame that he won't become one with me." Russia added, followed by a fit of hacking and coughing. "Russia! I told you to go easy on yourself!" China exclaimed. "No need. I can handle myself." Russia croaked. "I'm sorry, everyone! Mr. Russia's still recovering from typhus." China reassured as everyone stopped talking and stared. "Now, does anyone have any plans for postwar society?"

A few months later, China watched from a sea of soldiers and civilians as her boss announced the Five-Year Plan they had discussed. It signified a new era of industry as cash flowed free. Men and women alike cheered as China smiled from the crowd. She was ecstatic to see what was going to happen in the next few years. She wanted peace. She wanted money. She wanted everything, and nothing was going to stop her from getting what she wanted.

At home after the rally, China was sending letters to some Central European countries when Russia turned up on her doorstep, alive and well. She greeted him with a bear hug, overjoyed to see him. "Mr. Russia! What brings you here?" China said, leading him in, ushering him to a seat. "That is simple, da? I come to help with your little project." He replied, flashing China his winning smile. "Well then, what do you have with you?" China inquired. "Ah, yes. My _friends _and I have brought some technical experts to help you industrialize. We also have high-tech equipment that you might need, da?" he responded, a sparkle in his violet eyes. China blushed. "A-ah, thank you! I really needed that, aru." China stammered. _Wow, Russia's so nice, aru! How is everyone scared of him?_ China thought. "Come. Let's discuss more industrial solutions!" she said, leading him to her study. She made her way to an old bookshelf on the wall, full of maps, tomes, and papers. Flitting from title to title, she pulled out a large roll of paper. It was a map of China, with the word 'MANCHURIA' crossed out with red pen. The map was dotted with demographic indicators, also including the location of countless cities, towns, and major production plants, yet there were so little of them and their size were minuscule and oftentimes not supervised by the government. Pounding her hands on the map, she grabbed pins and scattered them above areas with resources. "Our agrarian society is mostly subsistence, so we want more efficient ways to farm, also transitioning to machines and factories. We need _and _want money, and fast." China mused as she put more and more pins on the map. She sidled over to a blackboard that was hanging on the wall, where quotes and thoughts were scribbled across, the true signs of a cluttered yet powerful mind. Picking up a stub of chalk, she began scrawling numbers and symbols, trying to find out how much manpower she could use. "I believe that we brought resources into the country, da? We are bringing a few thousand Soviet technical advisors in." Russia replied as China scribbled faster. "Thanks. I will update my boss and aides about this new information you have given." China thanked him, as Russia pored over China's map. She stared out the window, breathing in the summer breeze as an expression of tranquility. The verdant green of the scenery shone within her eyes as Russia watched from behind. She looked so young, yet mature and proper, with a youthful fire in her soul. He admired her so, the flawless flower she was, but the fiery beast inside was yet to be revealed. She was the medicine, the drug Russia longed for. Russia was lost in thought for a long moment of silence as China suddenly swiveled around, startled. "Aiya, I almost forgot! Mr. Russia wait here!" she suddenly exclaimed, dashing for the doorway and bounding down the stairs. Russia could hear shuffling around, drawers opening and shutting as China sprinted back up the stairs carrying a small pile of something soft-looking and shiny. Blushing a deep red, she unraveled the small folded form into a crimson red scarf, flowing through her hands like water, at the ends accented with gold and the iconic hammer and sickle. It was clearly handmade, woven with love at a complicated loom, made of silk and what looked like gossamer, a fine artwork. "M-mr. Russia..." China stammered. "I, um, I made this for you. I thought you looked a bit uncomfortable at the last Security Council meeting, so maybe you would want this, aru. I-it's getting hotter, and maybe you would need something, uh, lighter than the heavy wool scarf you wear every day, aru. This took me a few months for me to make, and I'm so sorry that I couldn't give it to you before the war. I wanted to thank you for what you've done, aru." she said, beginning to undo his usual thick woolen scarf, blushing even redder. "O-oh, let me put it on for you." she stuttered. As she unraveled the many layers of Russia's scarf, her already shaky hands stiffened and stopped as she finally slipped it off, revealing the bandages and gruesome scars streamlining Russia's neck. Her eyes widened as she ran her slender fingers across one of the biggest scars that ran across his throat, tears in her eyes. Russia fell to his knees, his biggest secret revealed. Still clutching the scarf, China kneeled down, caressing his cheek. "Oh, I... I didn't know," she whispered, shocked. Resolutely, she still wrapped the scarf around his battered neck, tears stinging her dark eyes. Tears streamed down Russia's childlike face as he sobbed, burying his face in China's small chest as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders as his salty tears soaked through her sleeves. She gently cradled his large body like he was a baby, like his older sister Ukraine used to. She stroked his ice-white hair, as his chest shuddered. His anguish resonating throughout China's home as they both lay on the floor of her study, slumped and sobbing together as they clutched each other for dear life as the wind whispered through the open window.

"Are you okay, aru?" China whispered as Russia, eyes red from crying, stumbled out into the lush courtyard where he sat slumped, grim, on a bench. Squeezing his hand, she comforted the hulking man, a global superpower who stood before her. She caressed his crestfallen face once again, still dry and streaked with tears. Still clutching his limp hands, she flashed Russia a sad smile. "We all have been through something, Russia. You don't have to tell me it hurts." she murmured as she opened her own scarred palms, pulling back her collar to show scars crisscrossing her collarbone near her beating heart. She pulled Russia's hands to her heart, feeling his cold hands against her bare skin as Russia could feel her heart resonating, beating loud and fast as he smiled slowly, pulling her into a long, slow kiss, China's face growing hot. "Scars," he breathed, "are the true mark of a warrior."

China offered to let Russia stay for the night as the sun began to set, casting a palette of oranges, reds, pinks, and purples across the sky. Russia played with her panda as tofu sizzled and a pot of thick rice porridge bubbled atop her stove. "Where's Taiwan?" he inquired as China's panda clawed at his sleeve. "Oh. Taiwan left a while ago. She was so young, still learning. Just fifteen." China replied wistfully. "How are the other Soviet countries doing?" she said, dicing spring onion. "Oh, their doing...fine." he muttered, shadows cast across his face as he smiled darkly. China stopped. "Oh? Are they not happy living with you?" she asked as he set down the little panda. A dark aura formed around Russia as he began shivering and twitching. "Yes...they hate me...they hate me...they hate me..." he whispered to himself as he rocked from side to side, his eyes cold and empty. "Aiya. I told you to treat them better, Russia. The question is, are you okay, aru?" she reassured, propping him up on a sofa, his aura disappearing. Suddenly, Russia smiled, his eyes lit up once again. "That is fine. Maybe I will try not to beat them with my lead pipe as much." he chirped. "Is the food done?"

The Baltics trembled as Russia once again arrived home, Belarus barreling through the door. "BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIG BROOOOOOOOOOOOTHERRRR!" she bellowed, slamming into him, creating a Russia-sized hole in the door. "How could you! All of yesterday? WHERE WERE YOU?" she screamed as wood splintered and cracked behind Russia. "Ah, uh, I was at China's?" he stuttered, fear overcoming his body as the Baltics three shook even harder. This only made Belarus even more irate. "WHHHHAT? WHAT ARE YOU DOING SPENDING THE NIGHT AT _**HER **_HOUSE?" she yelled as Russia cried, terrified of the monster of a sister he had. "Nnngaaaahh! Belaruuuuuuus!" Finally throwing her off after a long mile run around his home, Belarus finally was somewhat lost in the forest surrounding it as Russia made it back to the now decimated front door, panting and breathing hard. "M-mr. Russia?" Estonia muttered as Russia crawled for the door. "T-the door?" he stammered, pointing a trembling finger to the destroyed door. "Oh. That's fine, I'll fix it myself!" he chirped, freaking out the countries even more. _WHAT? He's doing the work instead of us now?_ The Baltics thought in unison as Russia went into the basement to look for a toolbox, whistling a merry folk tune on his way. Promptly afterwards, though, Belarus turned up on the doorstep, even more irate than earlier as agonized screaming came from downstairs where Russia was working. The Baltics had a bad day, of all the bad days that they had, once again.

The Security Council wasn't doing too bad after a few decades after the war, and many countries had moved on from the war, pursuing their own dreams, including Russia, America, and China. Which didn't always mean well. Every conference was an argument for the three global superpowers as the tension grew. Clearing his throat, England straightened up his papers curtly. "Ah, yes. United Nations 1961-1962, a league-ahem, group of nations that bonded together to ensure world peace. What shall we discuss today?" he announced. America pounded his fist on the conference table, aggravated. "About nuclearization! We need to get rid of that communist over there!" he protested, glaring at the Russian at the other side of the table, his aura chilling the UN members' blood. Russia's face fell. "Communist, you say? Marxist-Leninist? What a lie you have just told, da? You see, Mother Russia does not support this software anymore." he replied coolly. Taken aback, America sat down. "F-fine. But don't you dare nuke me!" he snapped as Japan winced, thinking back to past memories beside him and the former Axis powers. "Oh, PLEASE NO! Nuclearization is not the answer. We need to find a way out of this." China interrupted. "Pffft. What are you going to do? Do you even have a nuclear program?" America retorted; chest puffed out pompously. "Uh-yes, aru! You think I'm weak?" she replied. America only smirked as he grabbed her hand. "Look, little lady. If you think you're going to nuclearize your country, know that your little _boyfriend _Russia and I will be after you." he whispered coyly into her ear. "Grrr! You nationalist, aru!" she mumbled, sitting down as America chuckled.

The desk shook as Alfred pounded his palms against it aggressively, Russia sitting grimly on the other side. "You? Want me to sabotage the Chinese nuclear program?" He frowned, deep in thought. Alfred smirked. "Precisely. We can sabotage the tests itself, or surgically strike them. Then things go boom!" he said with both vigor and childish ecstasy. Russia stood, a rare indignant look crossing his face. "You think I want to nuke China? You want to start World War III really bad, da?" he hissed, his horrendous dark aura unaffecting America, who just sat there like a stubborn child. "_Yes." _America retorted, an evil glow in his eyes. Aggravated, Russia grabbed the sly American by his collar, his dark aura soon consuming the whole office, his once-bright eyes cold and dark. "If you don't agree with Mother Russia..." he whispered as America stared him through. "I will have to make you."

Tears stung China's eyes as fear clawed her insides as she read the letter from Russia as she tried to talk to the diplomat before her. "Uh...looks like Russia is playing ping-pong again." she muttered, suddenly gasping for breath. The diplomat wore a confused look on his face. "Huh?" he replied. "Oh, sorry, aru. I mean he wants to station soldiers at Xinjiang and then he protects me from a nuclear strike. How sweet of him, granted that now we don't agree with much." she sighed, leaning on her desk, shuffling around cluttered papers. "Aiya...and that guy America, too. It was...his idea?" she muttered, looking absentmindedly through her papers and files. Have you found a location for our uranium-235 tests?" she inquired, looking up from her pile of forms, ledgers, and papers. "Yes, ma'am. If you want, feel free to visit the site at Lop Nur lake. We are planning to do further testing beyond the uranium-235 at this site." the diplomat replied, sliding a file with a few pictures and a map of its area neatly organized inside. "好吧, I will plan to visit the site maybe, in a few days." she agreed, scribbling in a ledger full of bookmarks and dog-eared pages. The diplomat stood. "Thank you, miss. I will see you in a few days." he announced, bowing curtly and promptly leaving as China cradled her head, sighing.

America was irate when he saw the headline of his Sunday newspaper, in bold black letters at the top of the yellow-brown paper.

_**CHINA TESTS FIRST NUCLEAR WEAPON AT LOP NUR, XINJIANG, CHINA**_

The paper said it all. On the front page a picture of the enormous mushroom explosion was pasted, the surrounding land becoming dry, singed, and desert-like, smoke filling the background, fires dotting the scenery. The once-beautiful azure blue salt lake had been destroyed and dried up, only leaving a nuclear wasteland behind. "What!? The Chinese have nuclearized?" he roared, knocking over his morning coffee as he ran for his room, dashing out still straightening a messy tie and a rumpled-ish business suit as he made a beeline for his garage, his destination, the Russian embassy.

Russia picked up the ringing receiver in his office rather calmly as America shouted through the speaker. "The Chinese have nuclearized! The Chinese have nuclearized!" America exclaimed through the speaker. Russia smirked. "America, this isn't you. Get yourself together, da? I don't have time to come over and talk to you." Russia coolly replied. "Can you at least tell me what happened at Lop Nur?" America growled. "Yes, actually. You know that they tested a uranium-235 nuclear bomb there, da? China actually sent me a letter yesterday. She said thanks for all the help I gave." he responded, unwavering. "You WHAT?" America bellowed. "Dude, why did you do that? Now we can't nuke China!" he snapped. "But, you American idiot, if we do, we destroy the entire world, da? Then I can't conquer any more countries for the Soviet Union." Russia argued, getting increasingly worried. "Communists. You can never trust them." Russia heard America mutter through the phone. "Alright. Although we are no longer Stalinist, we don't want to hear from you. This is my fight." he reconciled, sighing. "Please don't destroy the world when I'm out picking sunflowers, da?" he asked as he heard grumbling on the other side of the line, promptly hanging up, slumping in his seat. "What have I done?" he murmured as he stared out the window onto the snowy skyline of Moscow, the snow falling softly and serenely outside.

Blood spattered the ground before China as she watched from behind a mass of soldiers charging onto the snowy Northern Chinese tundra. She saw the large tanks lumbering towards the battalion, T-34s and trucks and their roaring engines piercing the icy cold silence. Shots rang out through the dull afternoon air, nothing new to her. She watched the clash from behind, the tanks firing artillery as her men charged towards the tanks like before. Her expression darkened as she watched her men topple into the icy river as their frozen bodies floated to the surface. _They need me. _China thought, loading her trusty rifle, still covered in scars and scuffs from the previous war in Korea. Stilly hefting some grenades and her rifle, she swam swiftly across the frigid strait to reach the island, once again valiantly opening fire against Russia- wait, Russia? China stopped as she saw the familiar flash of ice-white hair under an ushanka as a familiar tall man stalked about behind the front lines. _Russia. _He wore a grim look on his face as his lilac eyes flashed, full of sorrow and remorse. Tears threatening to spill out of her midnight-black eyes, China dived past some troops unnoticed, wearing the trademark and elusive ushanka and red star, thick winter clothes but missing the hammer and sickle. Sliding smoothly on the thick ice covering some of the island's land, China dashed for a tank, biting out the pin of one of the sodden grenades hanging from her waist. Determinedly, she tossed it underhand as it skidded on the ice under the tank's underbelly. She dashed for the front lines again as the tank detonated before her, sending shrapnel flying, one sticking her in the thigh. Grimacing, she fired madly at the Russian troops before a heavy hand clamped on her shoulder. Russia stood before her, his face dark and somber, yet his eyes sorrowful and soft. She took his hand, eyeing the hand that reached for his pistol as tears welled up in his eyes. She reached for her revolver, holding back tears. "Russia," she growled as she fought back shuddering sobs. "So here we are." she muttered. Russia flashed her a sad smile. "I guess this is where we leave each other..." he murmured, pulling China into a sweet, passionate kiss as gunfire rattled amidst the battlefield on the Damansky Island.

China bandaged and rebandaged her thigh, the blood fresh and vibrant. The piece of bloody shrapnel was still on her desk as she toyed with the mangled swath of steel, the iconic red star, hammer, and sickle painted on it, the paint scratched and scuffed from the explosion. She smiled; her dark eyes painted with a faraway, forlorn look as a knock pierced the tranquil silence. Vietnam peeked in, laden down with a pile of letter and papers, followed by Hong Kong and North Korea. South Korea was still in retaliation from the war and would not speak to China, his back turned to his former sibling. The silent trio sidled through the door as a startled China hopped off of her desk, her wound tightly bandaged, some of the blood seeping through. "Sorry to bother you, sister." Vietnam murmured as the silent and serious Hong Kong and North Korea following, dropping the huge piles of papers and envelopes on the already-crowded desk before them, a cream-colored envelope fluttering from the large pile. China's eyes widened as she picked it up from the floor, running her fingers across the smooth paper and the golden hammer and sickle insignia sealing the neat envelope. It had no sender address on the back, yet China dashed for the letter opener lying on a stack of manila envelopes and filing folder. She knew who this was from. Vietnam, Hong Kong, and North Korea slowly retreated to the door as China ripped open the envelope, its contents tumbling out onto her desk.

_December 26, 1991 _

_My dear Yue-Yue,_

_I am all alone. Not even a single soul out here in the midst of the Siberian wasteland. Everyone has betrayed me, left me here to die. I long to see your face again. After all these years, do you still remember those memories we shared out in your garden when the spring green was still lush and robust? But no. I miss you, Yue-Yue, and while I rot in this frozen husk of a country, I hope you still remember me after all this pain and suffering. Do you remember Korea? All this pain that we went through together. The injuries. The wounds. The heartache. I always wanted you by my side, but I betrayed you. I betrayed myself, and everybody too, and I am ashamed of the excuse of a person I have become. I hate myself for all the lives I took, the blood on my hands and yours, and all of ours. We live in a messed-up world, don't we? I always wanted a friend, Yue-Yue. I am so very lonely here at home, all empty and hollow. Everybody hates me, including you. I am sorry. Sorrier than just a what a mere word can express. I have put this upon myself, and look where I am. I hope you remember our days of glory as you grow old, and I hope you remember me too, Yue-Yue._

_With love from the Russian Tundra,_

_Ivan Braginsky_

Tears pattered softly onto the wooden desk as China read the letter. "Yi-wan..." she whispered shakily as she caressed the silky sunflower petals that slipped out of the envelope, everything tinted with the faint scent of him: vodka with a hint of cinnamon, sweet, warm aroma of piroshki, and the intangible smell of his sunflower field on a mellow summer day. Looking up, her vision blurred by tears, she could barely make out Russia standing in front of her, his warm scent enveloping her. Tears flowing free, she reached for his outstretched hand, melancholy tearing at her judgement. But then he disappeared, leaving only a light dusting of powdery snow on the floor as she gripped the letter, hoping he would come back.


End file.
